


we're just friends, right?

by sugarconroy



Category: TheRunawayGuys
Genre: Angst, M/M, idk what the term is for They're Sleeping In The Same Bed but they are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-30 01:13:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10149737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarconroy/pseuds/sugarconroy
Summary: jon can't deal with his feelings.





	

**Author's Note:**

> SOME NOTES BEFORE WE BEGIN!  
> \- this is all in jon’s pov!  
> \- this is loosely based on the tizabel fic the magic hour -- please read it its so good holy shit  
> \- may contain traces of angst  
> \- this is probably weird and inconsistent considering i have a bad memory, sorry abt that ;-;

I never thought I’d find myself in this situation.  
In all the thirty-something years of my life, I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd be sleeping with my best friend.  
Now, when I say I was _sleeping_ with him, I didn’t mean in _that_ way, I swear. There was just a shortage of 3 bedroom hotel rooms, so we had to settle for a 2 bedroom one, and I had to share a bed with him. It’s fine. This happens all the time.  
So why is it that during that first night, I couldn’t sleep to save my life? I tossed and turned, trying not to wake him up, but still, I failed to rest my tired self.  
For a second, I thought about Tim. That fucker was probably sleeping soundly, as soundly as Emile was. I rolled to my side and gazed at his sleeping form. His body rose and fell with his breaths, and I spent a couple of minutes just staring, taking into my mind every inch of his body, his slightly parted lips, his closed eyes, his--  
I suddenly realized what I was doing and blush madly-- _I was watching my best friend sleep, for God’s sake._ I didn’t know I was _this_ perverted. I rolled back over and stared at the clock on the bedside table. 1:00 AM. I shut my eyes tight and manage to get myself to sleep.  
An hour later, I wake up.  
The reasoning for my sudden awakening was right next to me-- Emile had thrown his arm around my chest in his sleep. He also seemed to have inched closer to me since I last had my eyes open.  
I turned over gently, so as not to wake him up too suddenly, and then murmur his name to get his attention.   
“Emile…?”  
To my surprise, I was met with a response.  
“Jon…”  
I stared, wide eyed, at the boy who just moaned my name in his sleep.  
As it sunk in just what this meant, my cheeks grew warm. Surely… he couldn’t be thinking of me like _that_ , could he?  
My thoughts were interrupted with a sudden answer to my own question.  
“Jon, I… I’ve never done this before…”  
It’s just a dream he’s having, I say to myself.  
And yet, I wanted so badly to kiss him, to wake him up and straddle him, kissing his neck, and dear God why was I thinking like this.  
I turn over hurriedly and grab the pillow, folding it over my ears. I couldn’t take much more of this.  
I finally got to sleep.

\- - -

The next morning, I woke up. I looked to my side and saw Emile, still sleeping like a log. I remember the things I heard him say in his sleep last night, I but pushed them away immediately, dismissing them with the fact that he was just sleeptalking.  
I walked out of the bedroom to see Tim standing at a kitchen counter, a smirk appearing on his face as I walked in.  
“What’s got you so happy?” I asked.  
Tim just giggled in response. “Did you two have _fun~?_ ”   
Of course he’s making sex jokes.  
“I-I-- Tim, that’s-- That’s not--”  
A familiar, sleepy voice sounded in my brain.  
 _Jon… I’ve never done this before…_  
My cheeks suddenly flushed a bright red.  
What the fuck was I doing.

\- - -

That night, I did sleep. I dreamt-- a dream full of scattered images, of hands brushing against my chest, of lips on my neck, of fingers intertwining. I woke up breathing a little heavier than usual, my legs spread slightly apart. I immediately composed myself, embarrassed at my sudden crush on Emile. I wasn't supposed to feel this way about my best friend. We're just sharing a bed… this is a one time thing…  
And yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about sharing a bed with him-- sharing a _house_ with him, even.  
I couldn’t deal with this anymore.  
I silently walked out of bed and into the bathroom and cried.  
I hadn’t done this in a while-- crying in a bathroom, that is-- but it made me feel better, for whatever reason.  
I'd been at this for what felt like centuries when a familiar voice came from the doorway.  
“Jon?”  
Sure enough, he’d heard me.  
I looked up at the mirror and saw him, his sleepy, half-lidded eyes staring down at me. I looked at my own reflection-- my eyes were red and my cheeks stained with tears.  
“Jon… what’s wrong?”  
I looked back at him.  
“Emile, I…”  
I walked towards him, shaking.  
“I… I’m so sorry.”  
“What for?”  
“I love you…”  
There was a painful silence between the two of us before Emile held my hand and looked at me intently, and all at once, he kissed me.  
I wanted to stop, but at the same time, I couldn’t. I pressed my body against his, a low hum escaping my slightly parted lips. We found ourselves walking back toward our bed, and we ended up falling backwards onto it. I pulled away from him, blushing madly as I realized my position-- I had him pinned down on the bed.  
A quiet, nervous _oh_ came from Emile once he realized this, too.  
“Well… look what we've gotten ourselves into,” I said. “Where do you propose we go from here?”  
My newfound lover gazed at me lustily as he raised his arm, pulling my face closer to his.  
“Keep going,” he whispered.  
I obliged to this request almost too eagerly, continuing the kiss from earlier, this time teasing at his lips with my tongue. I could feel him breathe more heavily as I pressed my hips against his. I broke away from the kiss again, only to begin kissing his neck. Emile thrusted his hips against mine, a soft moan escaping his lips. I began to grind against him slowly, much to his delight, as he shakily grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers while I was still kissing his neck. I was enjoying the reaction I was getting from him-- as sinful as that may sound…  
 _Sinful_. That was what this was-- all just an impure fantasy come to fruition.  
I feel a sudden pang of guilt in my chest at the realization of what exactly I was doing-- up until then, it all felt hazy. I suddenly felt disgusted with myself-- for giving in to my delinquent fantasies like this. Thoughts filled my brain, both of his body and how I _shouldn’t_ be thinking like this, and they became louder, and louder, until I pulled away from him, panting heavily.  
“Jon, what’s wrong?”  
I couldn’t think of anything to say. I got off the bed and stood up, facing him.  
“I… I just… feel like this is all too… sudden,” I said, my voice shaking nervously.  
“Oh, alright! We could… try again later, when we’ve settled with each other,” he suggested.  
“Yeah… that’s fine.”

\- - -

And so, the last night us two had to sleep with each other came. I planted a goodnight kiss on Emile’s cheek, much to his delight. I pulled back and took a moment to take in his features again, like I did the other night. The last week had been very stressful-- what with our going to a con and all-- and I barely had time for even passing glances.  
“Jon…? You still on Earth?”  
I almost jumped off the bed in surprise.  
“I-- uh-- yeah, of course I’m still on Earth, w-why wouldn’t I be?” I stammered.  
He giggled that cute little giggle he always does and sighed.  
“Jon… I really love you, you know that?”  
I couldn’t help but smile. Even though us two had been a thing for about 4 days, it felt like my whole life.  
“Yes, Emile, I know.”  
“And you know you can tell me anything, right?”  
I sat there in silence, thinking back to what happened a couple of nights ago.  
Sinful.  
I pushed it out of my mind, and yet it kept coming back.  
...an impure fantasy come to fruition…  
I couldn’t take living with these thoughts any more.  
“Actually, speaking of which…”  
“Hm?”  
“I, uh… wanted to tell you about what happened… a couple nights ago.”  
“Oh…?”  
I took a deep breath.  
“I… Is it weird that I… felt guilty?”  
Emile stared at me, contemplating silently.  
“Because… I kept thinking that it was… weird. You know, me having those thoughts about you, and then… actually doing the thing…” I trailed off, looking away.  
Emile placed a caring hand on my shoulder.  
“I’m sorry, Jon. I didn’t know you felt that way…”  
“No, it’s alright!” I said.  
“But I… I feel like I’m ready to try again now.”  
A sudden look of excitement appeared on the younger boy’s face.  
“So, uh… you r-ready?”  
He nodded and leaned forward expectantly, and I did the only thing I could do.  
I kissed him.  
It was gentle at first, soft moans escaping his slightly parted lips. I pressed against him, grinding a little, eliciting a louder moan from him. I smirked lazily, suddenly getting a rush of adrenaline from the way he let me be in control.  
“Ah-- Jon… I've n-never done this b-before…”  
I felt somewhat proud of myself, being his first.  
“I'll be sure to be gentle then, honey,” I said, in a teasing tone that I'd never used before. Emile shivered at this, his hands shaking.  
“A-alright then!”  
I repositioned myself, bending down and placing my hands on his hips. That much was enough to set him off, his erection becoming more noticeable with each of his moans.  
I fumbled with his boxers, pulling them down and taking a second to get a look at his length, and then up at Emile himself. He was blushing madly, averting his gaze from mine. Without holding up any longer, I began to suck at his tip. I looked up at him briefly and noticed that he'd covered his mouth so as not to moan too loudly. Still, he failed, as while I began to bob my head up and down, I could hear him moan softly. My lips curled slightly as I continued, knowing he was getting closer.  
“Jon… _fuck,_ I'm… I'm gonna--”  
Before he could even finish his sentence, he came in my mouth, throwing his head back and shaking. His cock slid out of my mouth easily, and I wiped my mouth and looked up at him. His face was flushed a deep red and his eyes were wide.  
I pulled his boxers back up for him, leaned up and kissed his cheek, only for him to let out a small squeak.  
“...I love you, Emile.”  
“I-I-I love you too, Jon!”  
For the rest of that night we both slept soundly, holding each other close.


End file.
